


Love's Constancy

by Ultra



Category: Mansfield Park - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Conversations, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Fix-It of Sorts, Love, Marriage Proposal, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:02:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21744964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ultra/pseuds/Ultra
Summary: If only Mr Crawford could have convinced Fanny Price not to judge him on his past behaviour and to believe that it's feelings for her were true...
Relationships: Henry Crawford/Fanny Price
Comments: 12
Kudos: 85
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Love's Constancy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theravenwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theravenwrites/gifts).



> theravenwrites - thank you for giving me the excuse to rewrite Mansfield Park so that Henry gets the girl ;)

“Has this been all your doing, then?” cried Fanny. “Good heaven! How very, very kind! Have you really-, was it by your desire? I beg your pardon, but I am bewildered.”

It occurred to Fanny rather belatedly how her words must sound to Mr Crawford. To be so very amazed by his kindness demonstrated a terrible lack of faith in his ability to do good by others. Though she knew some of his wicked behaviour in the past, regarding Maria in particular, she ought not to question his goodness in showing favour to her dearest brother, or to herself, of course.

It was only now, as Mr Crawford expounded, explaining every detail of how William was made up to the rank of Second Lieutenant, that Fanny began to marvel at just how very kind and generous the gentleman was capable of being. Perhaps it ought to have occurred to her then where his affections tended and yet, somehow, Fanny had quite convinced herself otherwise. She was of no real interest to a man such as Mr Crawford, who only courted folly with the likes of her fair cousins.

It was only when she thanked him a second time and begged to be allowed to share William’s great fortune with her uncle, that Fanny had even half an inkling of Mr Crawford’s true intentions. He urged her so firmly to stay with him only five minutes longer and then began to tell her of feelings she had somehow never suspected, though he seemed quite determined that she ought to have long known all.

“You cannot be so completely in the dark,” he insisted. “After everything that has passed between us...”

“Mr Crawford, please,” she urged him. “Your kindness to William makes me more obliged to you than words can express, but I cannot bear to hear such things. You do not-, you are not thinking of me. I know it is all nothing.”

She tried in vain to turn away, if only not to have to see the downcast expression she had caused. His hand caught her arm, just for a moment, but enough to gain her attention again all at once. It pulled at her heart to hurt him so, for he had been kindness itself to her and to her brother these past weeks. They had become a kind of friends, she supposed, but now this, such feelings she had never expected, an offer of this type, she had never suspected to receive.

“Miss Price, I entreat you,” he said softly, meeting her eyes with his own steady gaze. “I wish to understand what makes you say all this. That the feelings I express are nothing to you? That perhaps I do not know to whom I speak? I pray you would believe me when I find you quite mistaken. It is you, Miss Price, only you, that can cause such stirrings within my heart. Though I shall admit to having had my head turned by many a pretty face and open manner in my past life, you must see how I have altered, how you alone have caused such a change.”

Fanny could scarce believe him, though he begged, most fervently, that she might do so. It was true enough that she had noticed changes in his behaviour and character of late. At first, she thought only that she had his attentions for sport, and then, when his particular kindness seemed to grow, little by little, she decided perhaps he really was just lonely and in need of company. With Maria, Julia, and even Tom all gone away, he had far fewer companions than before and certainly no chance for flirtation. Not that he had been in any way improper with her. That realisation only caused more confusion for poor, bewildered Fanny. 

“Oh, my dear Miss Price,” said Mr Crawford then, clearly reading her expression and all at once believing that her bafflement was very real. “Do I truly astonish you? If there is anything in my present entreaty that you do not understand, I will explain to you instantly all that gives me an interest in you. I will not leave you to wonder long.”

When he reached for her again, Fanny took a step backwards, almost tripping over the chair but righting herself at the last. He did astonish her, that much was true, but to have him explain his affections, she could not bear, at least, not at present. There were things she must say, things she must ask, if she were ever to make sense of this entire conversation.

“I wonder, sir,” she said then, shaking her head slightly before she dared glance at him once again. “I wonder how I could have excited serious attachment in one who has seen so many, been admired by so many, if I may say, flirted with so many, infinitely my superiors,” she explained, finding boldness in his own compliments of her, even if she was unsure how to credit them. “You have always seemed so little open to serious impressions, even where pains have been taken to please you, and you and I... our dispositions are so totally dissimilar as to make mutual affection incompatible. We are so unfitted for each other by nature, education, and habit, that I cannot...”

Words failed her then. Fanny’s own arm wrapped around her middle as she felt as if she had used up every breath of air in her mighty speech, the like of which Mr Rushworth in his role of the Count might have been more than proud. She had not meant to say quite so much, to speak quite so strongly. She had quite overwhelmed herself, almost as far as Mr Crawford had overwhelmed her with his own confessions.

“Well,” he said at last, no doubt having then had a chance to fully consider all she had said, “I am happier than I was, because I now understand more clearly your opinion of me,” he said, nodding his head thoughtfully. “You think of me yet as I have been, but not as I stand before you now. You think me unsteady, easily swayed by the whim of the moment, easily tempted, easily put aside. Perhaps I have been thus, I do not try to deny it, but of all persons I have encountered, of all to whom I have been better acquainted, surely it is you that must have noticed the changes in my manner, the alteration in my feeling. Consider me as you see me now, Miss Price, dear Fanny, if I may. I pray you would put aside all that passed when I was first at Mansfield. Take me as I am,” he urged her, dropping to one knee before her and presenting himself with arms wide. “In this moment, in earnest. I offer you all.”

“Mr Crawford, please...” Fanny began to say, and yet she had no concept of how to continue.

She ought to refuse him, she really ought, for she had no notion of ever being so tied to anyone, least of all the man in question, and yet, she knew he spoke the truth. She saw it in all his looks as he made his declaration and explained everything he felt. Mr. Crawford was no longer the Mr. Crawford who, as the clandestine, insidious, treacherous admirer of Maria Bertram, had been her abhorrence. Whom she had hated to see or to speak to, in whom she could believe no good quality to exist, and whose power, even of being agreeable, she had barely acknowledged. He was now the Mr. Crawford who was addressing herself with ardent, disinterested love. Whose feelings were apparently become all that was honourable and upright, whose views of happiness were all fixed on a marriage of attachment. Who was pouring out his sense of her merits, describing and describing again his affection, proving as far as words could prove it, and in the language, tone, and spirit of a man of talent too, that he sought her for her gentleness and her goodness, and to complete the whole, he was now the Mr. Crawford who had procured William’s promotion.

“You say too much, sir,” she told him at last. “So much that I am quite taken aback. Please believe that I understand the honour you do me, the favour that you have done for my brother and, indeed, my whole family. It is not that I am insensible of what is right and proper, or even that I judge you on what has gone before. You tell me you have altered and I cannot deny that I have seen the changes of character that you speak of. You say your heart is true to me and I... I should like to believe every word,” she said, surprising herself with the realisation of it. “Truly, Mr Crawford, if I could but be more certain...”

“Miss Price, if you will only give me the chance to prove myself. My conduct shall continue to speak for me. I can and shall prove that, as far as you can be deserved by anybody, I do deserve you. You are infinitely my superior in merit, all that I know. You have qualities which I had not before supposed to exist in such a degree in any human creature. You have some touches of the angel in you, but I am not frightened. It is not by equality of merit that you can be won. That is out of the question. It is he who sees and worships your merit the strongest, who loves you most devotedly, that has the best right to a return. There I build my confidence. By that right I do and will deserve you,” he assured her most fervently. “Dearest, sweetest Fanny, I do entreat you, only tell me that there is hope, that you might yet allow me to prove that all I say is true. Allow me only the chance to devote my life to your happiness and I promise you, on my honour and with all my heart, that you will never have a moment’s regret.”

Fanny was so overcome before, and yet, as Mr Crawford repeated his affections in this way, having explained away every concern she might have felt before, her mind became so clear, her answer so plain. It quite astonished her that, all at once, she could realise how simply her future happiness might be secured and with whom.

“I believe, Mr Crawford,” she said at last, a smile coming to her lips, “that there is only one answer left to give to you. I accept your proposal.”

If a man had ever looked more overjoyed, Fanny was sure she had never seen it and never would. Taking her hand into his own, Mr Crawford kissed it with a passion and continued to promise Fanny every good thing in the world that might make her happy. Truly, she heard very little of his assurances for their life to come. She knew only the happiness of her own decision well-made. It seemed that she was to be Mrs Henry Crawford and that thought brought Fanny more joy than she might ever have suspected it could.

**Author's Note:**

> Some dialogue and prose taken from the original novel.


End file.
